


Torture Profile

by malicioussocks



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Burns, Explosives, Genetic Disorders & Abnormalities, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, M/M, Past Torture, Sexual Assault, Teeth, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malicioussocks/pseuds/malicioussocks
Summary: Five times someone walks through the door, and one time someone blows it down.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 3
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

He was used to it, it was fine, honest. But wasn't that a horrible thought? That he'd been tortured enough times in his life to know what it's like to be tied up, gagged and blindfolded, and not in the fun way. He knows the feeling of being punched in the face, what it's like to be cut with a knife, stabbed and have his hair pulled out by the fist full. It was funny to him how similar kinky sex and torture is, how people get off on pain and making people hurt. He supposes this is why he doesn't like it. When he has sex it really is making love, there's no knives or ropes, gags or blindfolds, just the soft caress of cotton sheets and blessed skin against skin. Thinking about sex was relaxing but the bang of the door slamming against the wall sent his heart rate spiking rapidly. 

"You know what the good thing is about holding someone for leverage and not information? I get to work out a bit of stress, I don't  _ have _ to torture you but that doesn't mean I don't  _ want _ to."

Ryan heard the scrape of something being picked up off the table to his right, impossible to tell what. 

"Tell you what, I'll even let you watch,"

His blindfold was ripped off his head and light flooded his eyes, eventually adjusting to reveal two mirrors set up opposite each other to reflect the image of his own bare back before him. He's gotta give it to the guy, this is new. So is the braided leather cat o' nine tales clenched in the man's grip.

"Let's see if I can get the big bad Vagabond to scream,"

And okay here's the thing, the Vagabond has this reputation that he can't be hurt and that he doesn't know what pain feels like. And they're partially true statements. But the crux of the matter is this, Ryan was born with a disease called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain or CIP, essentially what that is is a genetic mutation that makes the carrier unable to feel or experience pain. It's extremely rare and most children don't survive to be adults. 

If anything good is to come out of it though, it's that it's made him one creepy son of a bitch. 

Bringing the whip down across the flesh of his back for the first time, the man grins evilly, anticipating an agonising scream, but is only met with silence and not so much as a flinch from Ryan. He sees the confusion crash over the man's face and grins, really driving the psychotic trait he's known for. 

Despite not being able to feel the pain, the sensation of the leather striking his skin and the sound followed by the actual visual of the injury wasn't pleasant in any way. But with a practiced smirk and pure determination he kept quiet and let the man take out his anger and fear on his back, long since accepting there was nothing he could do.

"The fuck is wrong with you man! Why aren't you screaming?"

"You should know that this body is just a vessel for much greater things, I am no mere mortal, I am above such trivial things as pain and torment; but I warn you now, if you're not careful you'll find yourself in this chair very soon,"

With that the man fled from the room, dropping the weapon to the ground and slamming the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a while before anyone else dared to walk through the threshold. This time though it seemed it was the big guns. This man had an easy confidence about him, a stoic and relaxed air about the way he walked and talked.

"I understand you gave one of my men quite a fright,"

"He was weak,"

"Mmm, I find myself agreeing with you. Which is why," he picks up the long discarded whip and places it back on the table. "I myself am going to be spending some time with you. I'm going to start with some questions,"

"Thought I was just leverage,"

"You are correct but I like to get a profile of my victims before I torture them,"

It was spoken with such nonchalance that it almost shocks Ryan. The man circles him a few times, assessing him. Normally the Vagabond wouldn't talk at all, only speaking when he could be especially creepy like before. But as it is he sees no weakness in this man so far, no fault to exploit and so he plays along.

"Ever been electrocuted?"

"If you count being zapped after plugging too many things into one outlet, sure,"

"Stabbed?"

"Yes,"

"Tazed?"

"Yes,"

"Beaten?"

"Yes,"

"Burnt?"

"Yes,"

"Broken bones?"

"Yes,"

"You've recently had your fingernail removed, and there's a bald patch on the back of your head,"

"Guy had a thing for keeping souvenirs, what can I say. Oh, and if you look closely, I think you'll find I've also been whipped before." Ryan was getting sick of his games and observations, they serve no purpose really.

"Now, now, no need to get smart. There's just one more thing I want to know. Anyone special in your life Vagabond? Anyone out there that's gonna miss this face?" The man holds his chin in his fingers, drawing his attention back to the fact he is not protected by a familiar layer of grease paint. A dirty feeling settles over Ryan's skin as the man strokes his face.

"I'd be careful you know, lesser men have lost fingers putting them that close," it was incredibly tempting but it was in Ryan's best interest to not anger him.

"That what happened to your finger? Little too close to a pretty mouth?" He asks, referring to the missing ring finger of his left hand.

"Thought you didn't have any more questions,"

"You're quite right, but I'd just love to know everything about you,"

"Take me on a date and I'll think about it maybe,"

"Cute, you're cute Vagabond," and with a light pat to his cheek, the man swept out of the room as boldly as he'd entered. Ryan wasn't sure if 'cute' was good or not, wondered if 'cute' would keep him alive, he imagines not.


	3. Chapter 3

The next person to walk through the door came with very different intentions. They carried a case in their hand and laid it out on the table. Ryan only became all the more confused when the person began cleaning the cuts made by the whip hours earlier. 

"These guys always provide medical attention to their victims?" Ryan asks out of pure curiosity.

"I have been told to not communicate with you," comes the reply,

"So they're listening then?"

A nod.

No video. Just audio. Perfect.

"Well that's okay, not many people know this about me but I love to talk. I don't know if you know but I've been getting kidnapped a lot recently, it's become a bit of a trend. At this point, if they just ask nicely I'd probably go with them ya know, it's nice to get out and see new places. The last people took me to the beach. That was nice, the salty air and the waves and all that, you been to the beach recently?" 

The person shook their head. 

"Sorry, I shouldn't ask you questions." This was good, this was working. If he could just narrow down where he was. "I've been to a lot of abandoned buildings in my time too, warehouses," 

No.

"Houses,"

No.

"Apartments,"

No.

"Some dirty garages,"

No.

"Some people even took me to their side business, strapped me to a barber chair,"

A nod. Yes.

"That was silly of them, way to easy to find that way. Gotta challenge the crew sometimes ya know, get their brains really thinking. Now, farms are good, too much land to search, actually I'd love if someone took me up to the winery, get lost somewhere out in the grapes." 

At this point he was just talking to pass the time, he'd narrowed down the kind of building was so he could make an educated guess of its layout. Most businesses have four main areas. A front room, back room, bathroom and a store room. So assuming he was currently in the back room, he imagines it's a clean run to the door. For all the professionalism projected by the man with all the questions this was a very sloppy operation.

Soon enough the medic was scurrying from the room and Ryan looked to see the mangled remains of his back, sewn together and patched with some strategically placed gauze. The tightness of the stitches were uncomfortable and pulled whenever he tried to move but he supposes it could be worse, he could be able to actually feel the pain associated with each and every tiny cut. It has always been a back and forth in his mind. Not being able to feel often detaches himself from his body, putting him in a different headspace that is not always good, the current situation not excluded and only aided by the mirrors. The detachment is good for the Vagabond but not for Ryan, and right now he is a lot less Vagabond than he'd like to be. 

Eventually Ryan's mind was put at ease when his body gave in to the pull of artificial sleep and so he sat slumped awkwardly over the chair, probably painfully pulling on his stitches and dreamt of nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking some time later it was to the process of being strapped to a table. It was the perfect opportunity to escape but his body would not respond, still working through the drugs the nurse had probably injected him with. 

"Before you strap me in," Ryan's words were slurred and barely came out right. "Do you mind helping me to the bathroom? I'm sure you don't want another mess to clean up,"

The men did not reply but spared each other a glance. Undoing the straps they'd already fastened they heaved Ryan to his feet and helped him to the bathroom. On the way there he got a good look at the building, he knew exactly where he was now which was good for him if he did manage to escape but useless in the way of getting back to his crew. The two men left him on the floor of the bathroom and shut the door, spitting out a curt, 'you've got a minute'.

Relieving himself took some effort, he's pretty sure he missed because he was too focused on trying not to fall over but none of that really mattered cause before he'd gotten to wash his hands he passed out again.

Waking up for the second time greeted him with the blinding lights of the back room ceiling. 

"Oh good you're awake, you're crew is awfully worried about you," it's the man with all the questions again. He holds a phone in his hand and circles Ryan, continuing to survey him. It makes him squirm.

"Got any more questions for me?"

"Well I've just got off the phone with your crew, sadly you were unavailable for a little chat but I did pass on a lovely photo of you, they didn't seem to like it. That being said, I'd like to give you the chance to say some last words to your friends,"

Ryan stays silent.

"No dying wish to pass on?"

Still Ryan stays silent, maintaining eye contact the best he can.

"You seem awfully close to your crew so I'm going to ask very nicely, tell me about your leader, Kingpin Ramsey,"

The man pulls a cigarette from a silver case and lights it, holding the still flaming lighter against Ryan's leg and looking him in the eye. "You may not feel pain but you and I both know you can still die… so talk," he puts the filter in his mouth and waits.

Ryan's eyes flicker to his own leg then back to his torturer and...

Still no words fall from his mouth. But a challenging tilt of the head wipes the grin from the other man's mouth. The lighter clicks off then and before the man can say anything his phone begins to ring and the man frowns as he pulls the device from his pocket.

He makes eye contact with Ryan as he says, "Ah Kingpin, so nice to hear back from you,"

His mistake was trusting Ryan to stay silent in the background. "Romeo, Oscar, Golf, Alpha, November," 

The man frowns as he fails to comprehend the importance of what he'd just said. You see Ryan recognised the street they are in and just spelt it out to his crew with the phonetic alphabet. Rogan Avenue. Obviously either Geoff hung up or he was done talking because the man was now stalking towards him, a menacing look in his eye that failed to intimidate the Vagabond.

"What did you just say?"

Ryan hadn't planned on replying but one of the henchmen chose that moment to poke his head into the room, "Boss? We've got a situation,"

He growls and then grounds out a curt, "I'm not done with you," before storming out of the room, slamming the door so hard the light fixture rattles.


	5. Chapter 5

It's the next day before the man makes good on his promise and walks through the door once more. He doesn't say anything straight away like he normally would, just looks at Ryan and contemplates something.

"I know what you've done. And I can't quite think of a way to sufficiently punish you,"

"If you're fishing for suggestions I think you're maybe asking the wrong person,"

"Aren't I though? What's the good in reliving old memories when I can give you fresh ones, I want to hurt you in new ways, make you feel in a way you haven't before. So tell me, Vagabond. How would you like to be touched today,"

It's not easy to make the Vagabond uncomfortable but this guys done it with his sexual references to torture, and he's pretty much hit the nail on the head because on the short list of non leathal torture methods Ryan  _ hasn't _ endured, sexual assult is one of them. 

"You could do me a favour actually. Got in a fight the other week and I've had a loose tooth ever since, mind pulling it for me?" Ryan is trying to change to focus away but doesn't think he's succeeded.

"I could think of a few other things to put in that mouth of yours than a pair of pliers, but I think I'll humour you," finding a pair of pliers on the bench the man approaches the table. "Open wide,"

Ryan feels woefully unprepared for this, and for the first time since capture he finds himself not in control of the situation in any way. He figures it would be stupid to change his tactics now but it doesn’t change the way his heart beats as he opens his mouth. The steel of the hand tool knocks against his teeth as the man pokes around to find the tooth in question. 

“I think I might go for this one,” he decides, tapping his top right canine. It’s not the loose tooth and Ryan wasn’t naive enough to think the man would pull that one but he can’t help but regret his decision to suggest it in the first place. Although, with the way he was going on, the alternative was not something he wanted either. 

The pliers feel foreign against his teeth and Ryan wonders suddenly why he is being so complacent when he could be fighting back in some way. His jaw clicks shut then and he looks at the man in the eye. 

“I just realised something,” Vagabond starts, “you’re very nice and all but I would very much appreciate it if you would not torture me,”

“That’s a great suggestion but I don’t remember asking. I’ll be needing you to open your mouth again,”

While this capture is not even close to being the worst torture he’s experienced, it is definitly the one that’s put him the most out of his element. He’s been stripped of his Vagabond guise and forced to resort to plain old Ryan for survival. Ryan is not very experienced in the way of abuse and it shows with the amount of talking and easy consent he’s been giving. But like a light switch, the Vagabond has been in the dark for too long and the silent brooding personality is back. 

The shift of defiance in his restrained body language is easy to see and his torturer sighs as he steps back, an almost disappointed look on his face. He wanders over to the table again and picks something up that Ryan can’t see, but he soon discovers it to be a gun as the familiar sound of the magazine sliding out then back makes a slight echo in the empty room.

“Now Vagabond, I've had such a great time getting to know you, but there’s just one more thing I want to know.” the man paces slowly, not looking at him but instead regarding the pistol with faux interest. “You ever been shot before?”

It isn’t a surprising question and nor is it a difficult one to answer, but he guesses the man isn’t really looking for a reply as his response would have little effect on his actions. He hums at his lack of words and places the gun, muzzle facing his temple on the table beside his head. Retrieving a dental gag he forces it in the Vagabonds mouth and returns to his pliers. Wiggling the tooth until it’s loose he then uses another instrument to shove in between his teeth and lever it out. Leaning away from him with a perfect white canine tooth clamped between a pair of pliers, the man grins, a little manic breath escaping his mouth. Ryan can taste his own blood pooled in his mouth and when the gag is removed he spits the mouthful of saliva and blood straight into the mans face. He makes little reaction to it, just sighs in a disappointed way and wipes it away but Ryan almost lets himself smirk smugly as it had almost hit his eye. 

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I think it’s time to mix it up a little bit, what do you think?” he has the gun back in his hand now and is pacing again. 

Ryan can’t tell if he’s trying to waste time with his aimless walking or if he actually can’t decide what he wants to do. 

"It seems a shame doesn't it… if only the people of Los Santos knew the face that was under that mask," he strokes the muzzle of the gun down the side of his face, "I do hope there's someone out there missing you right now, makes this just that little bit sweeter," 

As he talks, the gun moves down his body in a weird caress, stopping at his groin and despite years of perfecting how to not react, he feels himself prickle at how close the man's finger is to the trigger. He takes notice too and laughs lightly before moving away again to circle the table.

"How do you think people are going to react when they find out? That I managed to have my way with the Vagabond before I ended his life," with the gun in one hand, the other runs up the inside of his leg and despite his efforts, Ryan can feel himself go still when his hand settles over where the gun was just moments before. 

He needs to say something, anything to change the topic or make him want to do something else. Ryan is beginning to panic and can't think anymore. But that's when he sees it. Left hand, ring finger. There's a silver band.

"I'm sure your wife is proud of you," just eight little words and his entire being seems to shift.

Pure fury shakes his muscles, and his eyes seem to darken. But this is something the Vagabond knows, he knows how to use anger.

Taking a gamble, he continues, "do the kids know?"

Bingo. He growls lowly in his throat and with little contemplation, aims and pulls the trigger. 

"Do. Not. Talk about my family like you know them. And if you value your life I suggest keeping your mouth shut lest you get a new hole somewhere else,"

Looking down, Ryan finds a fresh new bleeding gap in the palm of his hand and releases an unthinking sigh of relief.

"Tell you what, let's play a game. You let me do what I want but every time you do or say something I don't like, you get a new hole somewhere. Sound fun?"

Ryan knew he probably wouldn't survive a bullet wound to anywhere else on his person so he instead breaths in a deep breath and closes his eyes, willing his body to relax despite how every part of him wants to run. Allowing thoughts of his crew to fill his mind he can almost trick his mind into thinking he's safe. He's been avoiding it for the time he's been here but he grants himself the small mercy of imagining his love, Jeremy.


	6. Chapter 6

No matter how many times any one of the crew gets captured, it never stops being hard to deal with. Jeremy has been so on edge the past few days, not sleeping, barely eating, just non stop searching for the asshole that dared to steal his battle buddy away from him and his crew. 

The guy in question is a real piece of work, multiple charges from common assault through to grievous bodily harm and some petty robberies. He goes by the name Vex and doesn't appear to be in charge of any major gangs which raises the question: what does he want with the crew let alone the most wanted man in the state.

The answer they soon find out is just to show he can, Geoff receives a text from a blocked number that just says 'i think you lost something' with a file attachment. After some sussing out, Gavin determines it safe to open and they all crowd around to see what they all know is coming. The image is of an unconscious Vagabond, shirtless and slumped over a chair backwards, his back torn to shreds. Jeremy's eyes instantly fill with tears and he quickly looks away as Geoff locks his phone to stop everyone from seeing it in too much detail. No one says anything straight away, it isn't until Jeremy spits out in a barley audible voice.

"That bastard's gonna pay,"

Jeremy could have kissed Ryan when he heard the code words crackle through the phone. It's what sets off their preparation for a rescue. They had Matt scouring the street for the most probable buildings, Gavin looking into the floor plans of those buildings, Geoff and Jack figuring out the logistics of the operation and Michael was getting his explosives ready, they are leaving that place as a hole in the ground. Which left Jeremy to ponder, and the truth is, he's scared. Ryan is living on borrowed time and the longer they take the more likely it is that he dies. He doesn't want to think about what he's going to find when they finally get to him but Geoff has assured him there will be a team of medics on standby for their return. 

Jeremy craves the simple things, most prominent in his mind is the nightly checks they go through together. Because of Ryan's disease, they came up with a system where Jeremy checks a naked Ryan for injuries every night before bed, a crucial step on heist nights especially. It took a lot of coaxing for the tradition to come about in the first place, Ryan not wanting to admit to the mutation let alone ask for help. But with intense pestering from Jeremy, he finally gave in. The next year of these checks are going to be hard, seeing the progress from fresh wound to healing to scaring is a journey Jeremy is normally excited to watch unfold but with the memory linked to torture and not a successful heist, it makes it hard to relive every night. Jeremy could never hate the scars, quite the opposite actually, but he'd rather not be reminded of the times when he was missing his battle buddy. 

The plan was simple, and it comes in three phases.

Phase one is as follows.

Alfredo and Fiona are each armed with some rocks with notes attached that have been lovingly hand written by Gavin. They are to run up either side of the street and throw a rock through each store front window. When researching, Matt found It is an abandoned business street that used to be home to a number of speciality stores but as expected, not many places stay open long in Los Santos. 

Phase Two:

As they wait for a reply Alfredo and Fiona assume position on the rooftops with snipers, when movement is spotted and target is confirmed, the rest of the crew move in, shoot the bastard's, blast the door off its hinges, rescue Ryan and blow the whole place.

Phase three is simple:

Fix Ryan and get home to bed.

…

Rolling up in a range of colourful vehicles, they almost throw phase one out the window because they can see Ryan's bike parked on the street outside one of the stores, but in the name of sticking to the plan, Alfredo and Fiona heft the bags of rocks down the street anyway. 

A smart decision it turns out, because they confirm movement in a different shopfront and quickly move in, taking out anyone with a weapon. This rescue mission is ridiculously over staffed but there's a rule with the fakes when it comes to these kinds of things, everyone in, everyone out. 

…

Meanwhile, the commotion outside Ryan's room of containment springs the both of them into alertness. Ryan goes more genuinely relaxed while his torturer turns jumpy and on edge. 

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, it's too early! It's not enough time!" He paces angrily in short lines, shaking the gun tightly in his fist. "This is all your fault!" He suddenly turns on Ryan, pressing the gun into his cheek. "If you had just kept your mouth shut, this wouldn't have happened, I'd get what I want and you'd end up in a ditch somewhere like I planned,"

With this intense escalation, Ryan feels this situation could go either way and really it was down to how long it takes the crew to clean out the other rooms and who is quicker on the trigger once that door opens. 

"I had it all planned! It was going to be perfect!" As he looks over at Ryan he gets a far away glaze in his eye. "You know what I think, someone must love you very much to go to all the trouble of coming to get you, maybe I could get two for the price of one." Ryan involuntarily stiffens at the thought. "By the look on your face I'd say I'm right, maybe I can hurt you once more before our time is up. Let's place bets shall we, who do you think will walk through that door first? I've got an idea and I want to know if I'm right. He's shorter than you, but stronger. A flash of orange hair covered by a cowboy hat. Goes by the name Rimmy Tim? I see I'm ringing some bells for you, that's good cause I'm dying to know…" he leans over Ryan again, the gun in his hand purposely pressing into his groin to support his weight, "does he fuck you right?"

Blissful silence follows and Ryan flinches as he is sprayed with brain matter, a sniper round embedding itself in the wall behind him. Ryan promptly tunes out everything, hearing nothing and when his limbs are finally freed he finds himself instantly scrambling away from the touch of his rescuer. Despite knowing it was a member of his crew, he doesn't calm down until he's wiped the gore from his eyes and spat out a mixture of his own and foreign blood to the concrete. Looking up and locking eyes with the hurt expression of Jeremy, Ryan feels instant relief and guilt. 

"Jeremy?" His voice comes out much quieter and more fragile than he intended.

"What have they done to you?" Jeremy drops to his knees before him and pushes back his hair from his face. 

It takes less than a second for Ryan to collapse into his arms, his forehead falling against the shorter man's shoulder. 

"Oh good, I shot the right one," Ryan doesn't have the energy to react to Fiona's timid jest, just wants to go home.

"Come on, we've got some people to take care of you, they're gonna stitch you up real good." 

Ryan makes a non-committal noise and promptly passes out. 

…

Jeremy sits behind Ryan and gently runs his finger tips up and down his back. It is a quiet afternoon in the penthouse and the two boys nightly check has devolved into loving touches. Leaning forward Jeremy rests his forehead on the other man's shoulder blade, swapping to caress one of the more prominent scars with the pad of his thumb. Ryan reaches back with one hand and Jeremy holds onto it instantly. It's the hand with the scar, one of the few injuries Ryan can actually feel in some capacity as it doesn't work like it used to, reduced to just 60% movement. Despite this, Ryan finds himself liking it for that exact reason. That and it's a good excuse to get Jeremy to hold his hand more often. 

"Hey Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you,"

Ryan smiles, still getting that teenage fluttering in his stomach when he hears those words, "I love you too, Jeremy,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I get a hell yeah for writing 90% of a story then falling off the face of the planet for 2 months. I finally finished it and I'm sorry!


End file.
